Dusk, Midnight, Dawn
by Seiryu16
Summary: The leader of SEES struggles with her feelings after experiencing a terrible tragedy. How can she be a leader when the depths of her grief are secret, and so personal? (Persona 3, Female Protagonist. Spoilers: October, Moon Arcana - Shinjiro)
1. The Incident

**Dusk, Midnight, Dawn**

The antiseptic smell of the waiting room stung her nostrils as she waited, half-numb, the twisting of her blood-covered hands in her lap the only sign of her inner frenzy. Her eyes took in the rest of her team, sitting with a similar numb heaviness in the scratchily-upholstered seats around her, staring at the floor, the walls, the ceiling – anything but each other. She noticed a few passing doctors and nurses look at her in periodic concern, then keep moving, as if strangely satisfied that the blood covering her jacket and skirt wasn't hers.

_"Don't cry… This is how… it should be…"_

She shut her eyes a moment, fighting back the fear and grief with the same strength of will that had possessed her to call forth the healing spirit, demanded that it keep him alive, keep him stable – and in the rush to the hospital, had lashed her entire being into keeping it doing her bidding, feeling its exhaustion in the work, and its growing fury at being yoked into such a task. The journey there had been just a red haze of agony, guided by the hands of her teammates, his insensate form amorphous and bloody in her lap as she pressed her hands against his wounds, the spirit's wrapped over hers like a lover's, expending its power in the pursuit of keeping him alive. Even with the Dark Hour long since done, the howling resentment of the being scratched at her mind, a dull ache on top of dull aches.

_His smile, soft in the faint lights outside the temple. "The wind's starting to pick up. I kinda want to stay here a little longer if we can, but… aren't you cold? Hey, you're gonna catch something. C'mere…"_

_His gaze, full of passion, in the bright lights of his room. "I'm gonna make myself clear… I ain't holding back any more."_

_His eyes, hidden in his hair, that didn't quite meet hers in the dim light of the lounge. "Go on. You… you should be with the others."_

It took her a moment to register that Mitsuru had stood up, and mechanically she turned her head to see the older girl speaking to a doctor – surgical mask pulled down, red marks on his clothes – in whispers too low for her to make out. A moment later, she returned, exhaustion showing through the carefully-trained calm of her expression.

"There is… I suppose it isn't right to call it 'good' news, but…" She swallowed a moment, brushing her dark red hair behind an ear. "They managed to stabilize him, but he's in a coma, and…" Another pause, longer. "They… don't know if he'll ever come out of it."

She was hardly aware that she was standing, was almost surprised when she was suddenly close to the other girl. "I need to see him."

Mitsuru looked surprised, but renewed her composure. "I demanded the same thing, but… Shinjiro is in Intensive Care. They will not allow visitors until they are certain his condition will not worsen." Her face softened a little, and her hand hovered a little, a nervous bird afraid to light on a branch, before settling back at her side instead. "I did try," she said softly.

She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling every ache, and the grit of the dried blood caking her hands. _His blood_. If the heiress of the family the hospital was named after was refused access, it was clear the doctors would stand fast on their decree… and she was too tired to hunt down his room and break in. If she did, she wasn't entirely sure she could make herself leave.

"We should go," said a soft voice behind her, and she turned to see Fuuka standing hesitantly, even flinching slightly at her stare. The others gave soft murmurs of assent – except for Ken, who sat mutely on a nearby couch, Koromaru curled up next to him, trying in his canine way to offer comfort – and their leader relented, nodding absently. She barely had the strength to do otherwise.

In short order, even despite the late hour, a limousine arrived to pick them up from the hospital and ferry them to the dorm. In any other situation, more than a few of them would have been ecstatic at the prospect of traveling in such luxury, but the eight of them were silent on the journey back, the only sound the purr of the engine and the soft sounds of the road. The silence continued as they left the car, walked into the dorm, and all went their separate ways, a quiet procession of grief.

* * *

_She had spent all day thinking of what he'd said to her the night before at the shrine, how there was so much finality in his voice. It reminded her too much of talking to the pale young man that appeared there sometimes, how he spoke of the inevitability of his death – but the bitterness in his voice did not appear in Shinjiro's, which made her worry even more. In that worry crystallized a single thought: _I cannot wait another day without telling him_. How she felt was new and raw even in her own heart, but she wanted to go to him with resolve, not panic. He said she was a reliable leader, and he trusted her… she only hoped he would trust her now._

_He was in his corner as usual, acting as though he wasn't watching the rest of the group interact, but he seemed to start like a frightened animal as she approached. He was brusque to her – in a way he hadn't been before – but she heard a waver in his voice, saw something in his eyes like… fear? Fear that she had not seen even when facing death, fending off the claws of attacking Shadows. _

"I need to tell you something." _He continued to look guarded, but she pushed forward. _"I love you."

_"…Huh?" His eyes widened, and he took a step backwards, bumping into the wall. First bewilderment, then anger flashed in his face_. _"D-don't tease me like that!" She took another step forward, and he nearly flattened himself against the wall. Panic rose in her, but she fought it back. Even if he didn't feel what she thought he might have… she needed to tell him._

"I'm not teasing you!"

_His face reddened, and he leaned close, his voice irritated, but his tone wavering, stretched too thin. "I mean, why just blurt out something like that? Here, of all places…?" He glanced over nervously at the others, but she knew without needing to look that they weren't paying attention. They had their routines, and she knew that as well as he did. She tilted her head to catch his eyes, to keep him from avoiding her, and for a moment that gray gaze caught hers before it skipped away again. Afraid. But she needed to push on_.

"If you don't want to talk here, we can talk in my room."

_He reddened further, looking at her in surprise, then away, trying to build up a wall she kept curling her fingers around and tearing down. No Shadow had been more difficult to deal with than Shinjiro was right now, and she was beginning to feel that she might almost be more scared than dealing with one of them as well. "I – I can't go in your room!"_

"What about yours?" _Redder still, as if that were possible. He was significantly taller than her, but seemed to be trying to bury himself in his coat. Fear lashed at her – but she kept telling herself that he could just walk away if he wanted to. Something was keeping him here, talking to her, and she hoped it was what she thought it was._

_"I…" he started, then swallowed, and leaned forward, trying to loom over her. "I ain't a nice guy. I can't let you in my room. …Don't you get it?" He finished on almost a begging note. _

_This time her voice wavered. _"I… I know what I'm saying."_ She wanted to say more, but locked her jaw against the words._

_His shoulders trembled, and the fear actually showed on his face this time. "No way. It's not gonna happen." He looked down, she saw his hands clench in his pockets. "Look, you need to watch yourself. Don't bother with someone like me."_

_With glacial slowness, she reached out, touching the very edge of his coat, and he shook a moment. _"I still love you," _she whispered_. "And I won't stop telling you that until you listen to me."

_His shoulders slumped. "Idiot," he mumbled a moment, and she wasn't sure whom he was talking to. "If you come up – it's just for a moment, you get it? You go in, and then you leave, and that's that. No sticking around."_

_She couldn't remember if she'd nodded, only recalled a blur of them taking the stairs – first him, then her, at his insistence, and a careful glance to see if the others had noticed (which of course they had not) – and then he opened the door, and shut it behind them, and they were alone in his room, and the whole world, for a moment, felt very different._

_Whatever she had expected to see… she wished it hadn't been this. Nearly empty, bare walls, a desk with a small box of clutter on it, a bed with barely rumpled sheets. It was the room of someone trying very hard to leave nothing behind._

_"So?" She turned to face him, and was worried to see his face dark, almost in pain. "Happy now?" He took a step towards her, and it was her turn to flinch a moment, worry if she'd read him wrong, read herself wrong, before she steeled her resolve again, and looked him in the eyes. "You're always pushing me around all the time…" He looked down, shaking his head, his voice low. "You're just gonna ignore what I want, huh?" He looked up again, his gray eyes boring into hers, and for a second her strength nearly faded. "Well, two can play at that game."_

_The world seemed to bend, and in an instant everything she thought she'd wanted went from a dream to something new, as he'd reached out and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. She gave a little gasp at first, then let her arms encircle him as well, pushing her head against the rough wool of his peacoat, hearing the thunder of his heart, beating as fast as hers was._

_"This is your fault, you know." His voice was a bare whisper, his lips near her ear, but it felt like he was speaking from inside her own head. "I'm all confused. You're all I can think about, day and night." He flinched and tightened his grip, as if holding her closer both hurt and healed. "Dammit, this isn't how it's supposed to be…"_

_She breathed in abruptly as he pulled away, turning away and stalking the room a moment, rubbing his face rapidly, as through trying to wake from a dream. He turned and looked at her, and she saw a kind of agony in his features, and a deep longing, something she'd only glimpsed in their moments together, a loneliness he did everything he could to keep hidden._

_"You get it, right?" His voice was tired, almost plaintive, barely hanging on. "Go back to your room. If you don't go now, you're not gonna get another chance." He half-looked away, and she thought nothing would break him more truly than if she would walk out the door. But nothing could be further from her thoughts._

_She crossed the room and stood next to him, and his face seemed frozen, dreading anything she had to say. _"I meant what I said. I love you." _She touched his face, and his lip trembled a moment_. "And I'm not going anywhere."

_He closed his eyes and let out a long breath – relief? Irritation? It was hard to tell. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he said softly, the words hanging in the air. She was about to move her hand when his closed over hers, and his eyes opened, locking her gaze as they had just before he embraced her. "I'm gonna make myself clear," he whispered, pulling her hand to his chest. "I ain't holding back any more."_

_There was no tremble in her voice. _"If I wanted that…" _she swallowed. _"Then I never would have walked in here."

_He smiled – like the sun after a storm – and the feel of his lips on hers was everything she had been so afraid to want, and so much better than she'd allowed herself to dream_…

* * *

Light stabbed into her room, pairing too well with the tinny blare of her alarm clock. She swatted the off button, then turned and lay still, staring with dead eyes at a blank ceiling, wishing the world would vaporize around her, shut her into a sarcophagus, and leave her alone with her pain.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Um, I'm sorry." Fuuka's voice, muffled, cut into the silence. "But Mitsuru-senpai says that we need to get to school. We can't be associated with… with what happened. We have to… to 'keep up the appearance of normalcy,' I think she said."

A mechanical sounding acknowledgment. Padding down the hall with the usual basket of toiletries. Shower, barely noticing it was cold. Whirr of hairdryer, pulling back and pinning hair. Hunting for the neckerchief of her uniform, finding only her spare, making it work. Waving off Yukari offering her toast. Long silence on the monorail ride, buildings flying past in a seemingly endless progression. Slow walk into school. Scratching of notes during lessons. She hadn't said a word.

"Excuse me." She blinked as if waking from a dream, and tried to affix context. Mitsuru looked at her with concern, Junpei and Yukari next to the upperclassman. She glanced down to see a packaged soup bowl open on her desk. Right. Lunch.

"We're having a meeting tonight – about what to do regarding Ken," Mitsuru said quietly, her voice low and careful. "I think it's best we go right back to the dorm after school. You don't need to worry about dinner – I'll have something catered."

"Cool, free food!" Junpei said, forcing enthusiasm into his voice. "That'll be nice." Yukari glanced at him reproachfully, but faded as she seemed to consider what the young man was trying to do. Their leader was silent until she realized they were all looking to her for some kind of acknowledgement – she nodded briefly, and the others seemed to relax.

"All right then," Mitsuru drew herself up, trying to muster some poise. "I'll go tell Fuuka about this as well. I'll see you all at the dorm tonight."

They dispersed – Yukari lingering a moment more, as if trying to think of something to say to the other girl and failing – and she went back to staring at her untouched food. It was ramen, like the first meal she had Shinjiro had together.

_"We're lucky that you're such a reliable leader_."

Appearances. Leadership. She felt them all looking to her for guidance, and for the first time, she hated it.

She picked up the bowl and dumped it in the trash uneaten.


	2. The Meeting

_The chaos of that night brought a life to the dorm it had never had previously. The kitchen, barely used before, hummed with activity, and the table was so laden with food it was almost groaning, topped with the professional-looking results of Shinjiro and – with his careful instruction to guide her – Fuuka's work. The dinner itself was even more lively than the preparation: Yukari yelled at Junpei for grabbing a piece of fried chicken from a tray with his chopsticks just as she was reaching for it; Mitsuru delicately spun pasta into a proper bite-size on her spoon without getting even a single fleck of homemade sauce on her blouse; Koromaru gleefully wolfed down chunks of sweet-and-sour pork; Fuuka delicately picked off the shells from the shrimp while Akihiko went on about the energy benefits of seafood – between bites of paella, of course; and Ken's initial nibbles on his omelet with fried rice turned into wholehearted devouring. Even Aigis, who could not eat, eagerly passed whatever platter she was asked to, and someone had even put some pasta on her plate to include her in the proceedings. _

_She noticed Shinjiro was just watching the lot of them, a small smile on his face, which turned into a look of surprise as she set a plate in front of him. "What… I thought that was for you?" _

_She grinned impishly back at him. "Nobody trusts food if the chef isn't eating it. Haven't you read any mystery novels?"_

_He frowned. "But it seems like everyone is-"_

_She slapped chopsticks into his hand and set down another plate of food in front of herself. "Come on, I'll race you. First to clean their plate gets to give it to Junpei to wash up."_

_Shinjiro blinked. "A food race?" He looked confused, but started chuckling. "Have you been spending too much time with Aki, or-"_

_"Falling behind!" she declared, and immediately the two set to eating, their laughter joining the delicious chaos of the evening._

* * *

The dorm was quiet as each of them arrived back from school, and everyone sat around awkwardly, engaged in whatever fiction kept them from having to talk. Junpei kept failing the same level over and over on his portable game system without seeming to notice. Fuuka flipped the same pages of the magazine back and forth. Akihiko tied and retied his gloves. Korumaru and Aigis, freed of the human need to keep up appearances, remained still, lying down and standing respectively. The only one not trying to kill time was Ken, who sat in a chair like a condemned prisoner, staring at the floor.

And her, of course. She sat on the couch and watched them all absently, as if from across a vast distance. Her friends, those she'd fought beside and shared so much with, now abstracted from her by a miasma of her own pain.

True to her word, Mitsuru arrived with a small retinue of caterers, who set up dinner on the table with delicate precision, then excused themselves. The smells were wonderful, and the food looked exquisite, but none of them did more than half-fill a plate, and pick at it more out of politeness than genuine hunger. After a few minutes, Ken politely asked if he could wait in his room, and she was grateful Mitsuru was the one to tell him it was all right.

_Ken was there next to Shinjiro as he struggled to breathe, blood staining the ground underneath him. Akihiko was running towards them as she turned the corner and saw them – she only realized later that horrible noise she'd heard was her own scream_.

_"Ken…" Shinjiro's voice reached her faintly as she ran to him. "Why the long face? Isn't this… what you wanted?"_

She flinched when Aigis set down a cup of tea in front of her, and stilled her hands as best she could as she reached for it, willing herself to take a sip. There was little more than the gentle clatter of teacups against saucers, the soft sound of everyone breathing on their respective cups to cool them – likely far after they were actually cooled – and the gentle bustle of the caterers in the other room packing the leftovers away. It was only when they were long gone and the cups emptied of tea when Mitsuru finally spoke up.

"It's time," she sighed, delicately brushing her crimson hair behind an ear. "We must decide what is to be done about Ken."

_"You're still just a kid, Ken…" Shinjiro coughed, staining his teeth with blood. She held his left hand tightly, Akihiko his right, but he kept looking at Ken… who stared back mutely, petrified with horror. "You've got your whole life ahead of you…"_

Hesitant conversation beat at the edges of her mind like the wings of moths, but she didn't want to find clarity. She turned her teacup over in her hands, wishing she could crush it, that the power she wielded lived in her own body, instead of a proxy form. That she herself had been able to do anything to heal Shinjiro, instead of force it on someone else.

The clamor of footsteps pounding down the stairs snapped her out of her reverie. Fuuka arrived, out of breath, panic in her voice. "Ken's gone!" she gasped. "His window was open – I didn't see any other trace of him anywhere! We need to find him!"

"Easy." She turned to look at Akihiko, who seemed to have an eerie calm about him. "If you go after him now, he's just going to run further. Give him some time to figure all this out." Fuuka looked horrified, Junpei troubled, Yukari concerned, and Mitsuru…

Mitsuru was looking at her. "You're the leader," she said carefully. "What do you think we should do?"

_"Don't waste it…" His hand tightened on hers, but his gray eyes fixed on Ken's. "Make it your own… Okay?"_

"Akihiko-Senpai is right," she said softly, wishing it didn't feel like retaliation to say so. "If he wants to come back, we are here for him. In the meantime… he should be allowed to take the time he needs to be alone."

"B…but…" Fuuka began, but was cut off by a small shake of the head from Mitsuru.

_"Don't cry…" This time his eyes met hers, and the small comforting smile on his face shattered her heart. "This is how… it should be._"

She felt a great wave of exhaustion sweep over her, and for a moment, the grief was too much to bear. Again she found herself standing before she was fully aware what she was doing, and her teacup clattered to its side in her haste to get up. "Excuse me," she said, her throat feeling thick. "I need a moment." And then she was out of the room, escaping into the coolness of the women's bathroom.

The lights burned her eyes as they snapped on, and she scrambled to grab the sink, clutching desperately at the cold porcelain for purchase. She stepped on her sobs, transmuting them into long, hiccoughing gasps, shuddering with the effort to rein in her pain, just long enough to get through this.

_"Don't cry…" _

He'd tried to wipe her tears away that night, and left blood on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror, and wished she didn't still imagine it there.

* * *

Junpei watched his friend's hurried exit closely, brows pinched with worry. "Man," he sighed. "She's really not taking this well, is she?" Next to him, Yukari sighed deeply, and put down her own teacup.

"She's our leader," she said quietly. "She blames herself for not seeing this coming, I bet. She always takes things hard that happen to the team."

"It was horrible for everybody," Fuuka whispered, clutching her hands together in worry. "She shouldn't take all of this on herself."

"Excuse me," Aigis said suddenly, cocking her head on confusion. "But would her emotional state not make sense, given that she and Shinjiro-san were lovers?"

The room went entirely silent. A half moment later came the sound of the ladies bathroom door shutting – and everyone saw their leader standing there, frozen in place. She took in their gazes for one long moment, then fled up the stairs, her footsteps pounding into the distance.

"Oh boy," Junpei said in the silence that followed. "_Awk-ward._" He yelped in pain as Yukari smacked him.

Mitsuru looked entirely baffled, and shook her head as she'd been the one who was slapped. "That… that is a surprise," she said, stuttering uncharacteristically. "I… I didn't think she was that kind of girl."

"_SENPAI!_" Fuuka gasped, aghast, and it took Mitsuru a moment to process exactly what she'd said, which made her face go nearly as red as her hair.

"I – I meant the type to fall in love easily!" she stammered, hand to her chest. "She didn't seem the romantic type to me! _That's_ what I meant!"

"I am confused," Aigis said, tilting her mechanical head in worry. "Was I not supposed to speak of the relationships of each of our members? If so, I will refrain."

Yukari sighed. "There's a time and place for gossip, Aigis, and I think that very clearly was not it."

Mitsuru, still flustered, clutched her hands together, clearly wanting to do something. "Should one of us go to speak with her?"

"Um," Fuuka gulped. "I think probably not, Senpai." Mitsuru seemed to deflate a little in relief, then flinch slightly as Koromaru barked.

"He is requesting an urgent walk," Aigis interpreted. "I shall take him for his nightly exercise."

"I'll join you," added Fuuka quickly, then turned to Mitsuru, who didn't seem to exactly know what to do with her hands. "Will you join us, Senpai?"

"Y-yes," she said, quickly regaining her composure. "I do think the night air would do me some good. Would anyone else care to join us?" Yukari and Junpei shook their heads, while Akihiko remained silent, looking into the far distance, seemingly oblivious to anything around him.

As the girls and canine departed, Junpei let out a low, sliding whistle, scratching his head underneath his hat. "The second I think I know what's going on around here, shit just gets more complicated." He sighed, then suddenly straightened up as though something just occurred to him. "Hey, so – Aigis referred to her and Shinjiro as being 'lovers,' right? You don't think that means they were like, actually _physically-"_

Yukari made a noise of disgust and smacked him on the shoulder again, harder this time. "You're a pig, Stupei," she snapped, and retreated up the stairs.

Rubbing his wounded shoulder, Junpei shook his head and turned to Akihiko. "Well, Senpai, what do you think?"

The question seemed to bring the upperclassman out of his reverie, only to turn his distant expression into one of rage. "_Shut up!_" he snarled, and turned on his heel, stalking out the front doors of the dorm and into the night.

Junpei's face fell, any attempt at levity vanished with everyone else. He looked in the direction of the stairs, where his classmate, leader, and friend had disappeared. "It's just…" He sighed quietly. "I just thought she'd tell me if she liked someone. I thought we were close." He hung his head a moment. "I would have been nicer to that guy, too," he said softly.


	3. The Visit

_He was handing her a watch – simple but beautiful, with a leather band and silver face. She was startled by the gift, and for a moment, she couldn't say anything._

_"This isn't really to pay you back, but I want you to have this. I was hesitating about if I should give it to you or not…," Shinjiro's smile was awkward but earnest. " I thought it'd look good on you."_

_She let him fasten it on her wrist, and didn't realize until he'd finished that she'd been holding her breath. She looked at it to admire it, how it shone in the pale lights of the shrine, but the hands of the watch spun, and suddenly they were in his room that night, and he was watching her put the watch back on, stroking her hair and smiling. She wanted to stop time there, be in that moment again, but the watch hands leapt once more and she was kneeling next to him, her tears falling on his body, his blood spreading across the concrete. The watch hands skipped, slowed, came together. A bell chimed, and she felt the world ripple around her._

The Dark Hour. And she knew who was coming to see her.

She forced her eyes open, gummy from weeping, to see the boy watching her carefully, the empty smile on his strange face. "It's cold tonight," he observed, eerie blue eyes wide. "Can you believe it's already autumn? It'll be winter before you know it." She sighed and tried to sit up in bed, and those odd eyes watched her unblinkingly, curious.

"You seem tired," Pharos observed. "Did something happen?"

She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back anger and hurt, quashing her desire to snap at this strange ethereal creature that might or might not even be real, and instead forced out a long, painful sigh. "A… a good friend was…" A sob crawled out of her throat and cut her off, and she covered her face and wept, uncaring who was there, helpless in her grief. When she was finally able to stop, she uncovered her eyes and saw Pharos still sitting at the edge of her bed, looking pensive… and somehow sad.

"In this world, people die every day," he said matter-of-factly, his blue eyes meeting hers. "Until recently, this was the same to me as the blowing of the wind." He reached out a small hand and touched hers, palm eerily cold on her tear-slicked hand. "But now, I see things differently…" He looked at her, and his smile was the empty, guileless one of a child. "For the first time, I have a friend."

The conversation between them continued, the half-remembered dreamlike chatter of the Dark Hour, until even Pharos seemed to recognize the heaviness of her pain and grief. He patted her hand, which felt both chilling and comforting at once. "Forgive me if I have said anything peculiar today," he apologized, giving that small, sad smile that made him look thousands of years old, deathless in youth. "Perhaps it is the change of seasons. Of course, our friendship remains steadfast.

"Well… I shall bid you farewell for now. Good night." That smile, that comforted and chilled. "I'll always be by your side…"

And he was gone.

_For the first time, the Dark Hour was something they enjoyed that night, she and Shinjiro, that gave them extra time with one another, protected from danger and prying eyes. It was theirs together. _

And now she was here by herself, in the darkness she hated so much. She sighed and laid back down, never more alone than she was now, and waited for sleep to return.

* * *

She went to his room the following day, when she knew the coast was clear: Yukari was studying, Fuuka was in her room, Mitsuru was off on Kirijo family business, Junpei was out for the evening, Aigis was walking Koromaru, and Akihiko was off training. She crept as carefully to the second floor as any excursion to Tartarus, creaked open the door, and stepped inside. Late afternoon sun filtered in through cracks in the curtains, painting the room in a dusky half-light. Dust motes hovered in the air, and the silence made her ears ring. It didn't seem like a room waiting for its occupant to return, but one empty of life and meaning.

She took a few hesitant steps in, then walked over to the bed and slowly sat down, sighing as the mattress accepted her slight weight. With a trembling hand, she smoothed the covers – then stopped in confusion, seeing a small sliver of something red peeking out from underneath the pillow. Curiously, she grabbed the edge of it and pulled, revealing a silken crimson cloth a couple feet long – and her breath caught in her throat at the memory.

_Their kisses had grown hungry, and their hands sought buttons, edges of clothing. His hat was gone; her jacket pulled away from her shoulders and tossed aside; his peacoat buttons were picked open and his coat had slithered to the floor. They stumbled, hardly able to breathe or see, their kisses so ardent, and she gasped when she bumped into the bedpost, throwing them temporarily back into the real world._

_"I'm sorry!" An awkward laugh. "I…" _

_She was interrupted by his arms around her, guiding her to sit on the bed alongside him. "Don't apologize," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her cheek. "Just let me know if you need to slow down, or stop, or-"_

_It was her turn to interrupt him, kissing him fiercely, and his mouth worked its way around her jaw, down her neck, stopping at her high collar… damn that high uniform collar, she'd thought, and how it got in the way! She turned her face to kiss him further, and with the other hand tried fruitlessly to undo the kerchief around her neck, tugging at it, drawing it tighter, until he gently pulled away from her, and held her hand in both of his. "Let me try."_

_She removed her hand from the hopelessly knotted kerchief, and he moved to kneel in front of her, eyes on the knot, working deftly and with careful attention. She lifted her head obligingly, and could not see what he was doing, but could feel the care with which he sought the edges of the material, the gentleness he used to pull the fabric apart, to tease the knot drawn tight into slackness. Finally, she heard him sigh with satisfaction, and felt the kerchief slide loose along her neck. She watched as he wrapped its silken form gently around his hand, and how he smiled at her as he placed it to one side._

_Nothing else that night was an impediment to them._

"I thought you might come here."

She gasped and turned towards the door, shaken from her reverie by Akihiko, who stood in the doorway, watching her. "I didn't mean to interrupt. If you want to be alone, I…" He trailed off a moment as he saw the red object trailing from her hand to underneath the pillow, identified it, and then his expression went dark as he did the math, from the kerchief in her hand to the mismatched one around her neck. "So," he said slowly. "It is true." Her face burned, but she closed her eyes and nodded.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's strange," he said softly. "If there was anyone for you to-"

"To what?" she snapped suddenly, her face burning.

"-to fall in love with," Akihiko finished, looking seriously at her, "I'm… I'm glad it was him." She looked away, her face hot with embarrassment and grief, but he continued.

"We did talk about you a lot, you know. He kept telling me how great of a leader you were, how I should stop being so reckless and always listen to you, things like that." Silence. "I should have known how he felt about you. And I guess… I shouldn't have found it so impossible for you to care about him the same way, too."

Tears were sliding down her face, and she had no idea why she started talking, but she couldn't stop herself. "I knew he meant a lot to you. You know? That's why I first asked him out to dinner. I wanted to make him feel welcome, because you were so happy he had come back." A sob crept out, and she coughed and continued.

"He talked about you so much. How you've fought all the time, ever since you were kids. The… the first time we grabbed dinner, we went to the ramen place – the one you and I go to… _went_ to… and he couldn't even eat his ramen right away because you'd hit him, and had a cut on the inside of his mouth because of it." A beat, but she was stumbling over herself to explain. "But he told me that's just the way you two were."

She heard Akihiko sigh, much closer this time, and looked up to see he'd sat in the desk chair nearby. "He probably had some choice things to say about me." His smile was sad. "Called me an idiot, I'm sure."

She laughed despite herself. "Well… yeah, pretty much exactly that. But… he also called you proud, kind, and honest…" She looked away. "And he said you needed someone to be by your side, and he… he wasn't worried, because he knew I was with you."

There was a long silence.

"Are you?" Almost too soft to hear. She looked at him, and he at her, and it was too much – they both looked away.

Another silence, and her turn to break it. "I wanted to be. But I didn't know… So much started happening, all at once. And it seemed like you had other things on your mind."

"I did. Not like that, but… I did. It doesn't mean that… that it was something I _didn't _want, but…" He scrubbed a hand through his short hair. "I guess if I let myself get carried away by other things, I wasn't ready then."

The late afternoon shadows deepened into evening, hiding the slow dance of the dust motes. "I just feel like I'm barely holding it together. He might have called me a 'great leader,' but that's the last thing I feel like right now." She wiped tears out of her eyes, and gave a little sniffle that she wished didn't sound so pathetic. "I'm just trying to figure out what to do next. Where I am – where _we_ are – without him."

"I can say this," Akihiko said with a nod. "He lived his life with a resolve I can only dream of. Even when he was lying there dying… he forgave Ken. He wanted him to not live the kind of life he had, keeping things at bay because of his regrets. I want to believe he'll recover, that he can live his life again. One that…" He looked at her seriously, his eyes shining in the low light through the curtains. "One that I think you showed him was worth living, worth being a part of."

A long breath, added to the many that had come before. "So… you've got it all figured out?"

He chuckled wryly in response. "Not by a long shot. But I'm pretty sure if Shinji were here, he'd tell us to pull our heads out of our asses, to quit wasting time being so damn sad, and go on with our lives." Another chuckle. "Imagine when he gets better, if he came back and found out we'd wasted so much time just moping around missing him."

She gave a slight smile. "I think he'd hit you again."

They both laughed at this, filling the room a moment, and for a second things didn't seem so dour. In the half-light, Akihiko's eyes met hers, and he held something out to her – a black beanie with a silver label. She froze as she recognized it.

"This was Shinji's," he said slowly, "but I think you know that. It fell when we moved him to the hospital, and I picked it up to give to him later, but I don't think the hospital will let him have it back. I was going to put it here, but… but maybe you should have it. At least for now."

She reached out hesitantly, her fingers wrapping around the soft material of the hat. She remembered how often he sunk into the collar of his jacket and tugged it low on his head when he was annoyed, straightened it after battles and before he started cooking, and how he shyly shook out his hair when she slipped it off his head. It felt like a talisman, a thing claimed without the other knowing, like her neckerchief had been to him. She looked up at Akihiko, uncertain. "Are you sure? This is… precious." He nodded.

"I have years of memories of him," he said with a smile. "This feels like it should be with you."

She curled the hat close to her chest, then reflexively looked down at the neckerchief in her other hand. "I… I think I have an idea of what I'd like to do with this, too."

Akihiko nodded. "It won't be easy, but I can help." She smiled, and he stood up, and nodded gently. "I think I'm good to head back to my room… unless you want to spend a little more time here."

She shook her head and stood as well, pocketing her neckerchief and giving the room one last look. "I wish he'd left more of himself here. So it didn't look so… empty."

Akihiko nodded. "Maybe when he comes back, we'll buy him a poster." She laughed, and he looked surprised. "I… was being serious."

They walked out the door, and carefully shut it behind them. "Let's brainstorm on that one later," she said with a giggle, feeling more herself. "Goodnight, Senpai."

He bid her goodnight as well, and she trekked upstairs to the third floor of the dorm. Just outside her room, she hesitated, then turned and knocked on the door of the room directly opposite hers. Aigis opened the door, robotic face blank. "Hello," she said, voice calm. "What can I do for you?"

She bit her lip a moment, then gestured inside the room. "May I come in?"

"Certainly." Aigis stood to one side and let her enter, and closed the door afterwards. The room, as expected, was as spotless as if none had ever been in there before, with the exception of a small, neatly stacked set of books and a pencil case on the desk, and one small flyer from a random store posted with mechanical precision on the wall next to the bed. Shinjiro's room had been that of a person trying to live without leaving a trace; Aigis's room was that of someone trying resolutely to do the opposite.

"Aigis, do you… did you…" She swallowed, and the robot girl regarded her with concern. "Did you hear Shinjiro and I returning to my room that night?"

Aigis hesitated. "I do not know if it is all right for me to speak of team relationships. Takeba-san said there was a time and a place for gossip."

"It's all right, Aigis. I'm not angry with you. I just… would like to know."

Aigis's eyes blinked slowly – whether this was an attempt to seem more human or a sign she was accessing data was uncertain – and she nodded. The young woman let out a long breath. "Do you… is there a way to access that?"

The robot nodded. "I cannot access visual data without a proper output device, but I can replay audio."

"Could you do that for me?"

Aigis nodded again, then hesitated. "I apologize if this is a disconcerting experience. I have been advised in the past to suggest that you close your eyes for the duration. Please sit at the desk and I will proceed."

She obeyed, pulling out the chair and sitting down carefully, folding her hands in her lap and closing her eyes. There was a strange clicking noise, and a voice like Aigis's, clear and synthetic…

_"AUDIO-ONLY RECORDING. OCTOBER THE THIRD, TWO-THOUSAND AND NINE. TWO THIRTY-EIGHT AM LOCAL STANDARD TIME."_

There was the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs, getting closer. There was a small half-click of a hand on a doorknob, then a little coy chuckle.

_"You could come in, you know."_ Her voice, strange to hear spoken back to her. She sounded almost drunk, giddy. Then a male laugh, low and quiet, and her heart leapt.

_"No way! If you think it would be bad news for you to get caught in my room, me being caught in yours would be ten times worse."_

"_You're not tempted?_" She winced at how cheesy the line was, how obvious her longing had been.

His voice again, seriousness underneath the levity. _"I think you know by now I don't do well against your temptation. But we still need rest, and as much as I'd like to stay…"_

_"I know. But you can't blame me for trying."_ A laugh, and then a sound that took her a moment to recognize was a kiss – it seemed short in the audio, but in her mind it had gone on for ages. She felt her face redden.

_"Goodnight, and sweet dreams,"_ he had said softly.

_"Goodnight, Shinji." _He had smiled at that, faintly, being called his nickname. _"I love you. Sleep well."_ The door opened, and closed with finality.

She opened her eyes and looked at Aigis, who shook her head slightly. "There is more. Unless you do not want to hear it…"

She shut her eyes again immediately, and after a moment, she heard a male sigh. _"I… I love you too."_ An electric current shot through her at the whisper, at this something she hadn't been meant to hear. _"And I'm sorry. I never…"_ The voice got quieter, and the audio got a little fuzzier as Aigis turned it up to compensate. _"I told you that you didn't have to forgive me – I can't imagine you will – but that's the thing I want now, most of all. I can't ask you to understand. I should have tried to chase you off, but – you're too damn strong for me."_ A long sigh, and a shuddering breath – had he wept? _"Keep that strength. It makes you so beautiful."_

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance, and she flinched and snapped her eyes open at the second clicking noise. She looked at her lap and saw how tightly she'd been clutching his hat in her hands, and she forced herself to relax, her white knuckles fading.

"That is the end of the recording," Aigis said softly. "I am sorry – I cannot help recording what I experience. If you wish, I can delete if from my memory banks."

She stood, and smiled, feeling tears streak down her cheeks. "No, Aigis, it's all right. None of us can help what we remember, whether it's good or bad. It's part of being a person." She touched the robot girl's shoulder gently, and Aigis gave a small blink of surprise, as if taking a moment to properly register the intent of the action. "Thank you for letting me hear it."

There was a pause, and then a genuine, grateful smile spread across her perfect face. "You are very welcome," she said, and in that moment she had never sounded more human.

* * *

_They'd stayed up late before – though not for the same reasons, of course – and talked into the early morning, while the lounge went dark around them except for the faint lights of the chandelier. He'd wanted to stay in that night, and kept asking her questions: about her day, her classes, her favorite things – any and everything, and she was happy to respond. He'd usually avoid anything she'd asked back, and eventually she focused instead on the joy that just hearing her talk seemed to give him. "C'mon, tell me more. Encore, encore!" he'd said, smiling and laughing, but a note of begging buried deep in his voice. _

_"You look best when you laugh," he'd said suddenly, and his face looked strained. "So don't cry, got it?" _

_She was confused and worried, especially when he turned away a moment, saying as if to himself, "I gotta make sure I don't leave anything behind… no doubts, no regrets…"_

_"Hey," she'd said, nudging him with a foot, doing her best to cover her worry with a teasing tone. "Is there anything you want to share? You've asked me to talk and talk, and now I want to listen."_

_He looked at her and smiled, but it seemed rueful, sad. "I keep telling you what to forget and what to remember… what to want and to not want… I'm… selfish, aren't I?"_

_She started at this, surprised. "That's not true! Why would you think that?"_

_He shook his head. "All the time you've spent with me-"_

_"-was freely given, and happily."_

_"Your time tonight-"_

_"Has been my pleasure." She smiled at him, a challenge. "Try harder."_

_He shook his head. "Just… listen. As long as I'm already being selfish, I want you to do one more thing for me."_

_She sighed but gave in, nodding. "What is it?"_

_"You don't have to forgive me… but forgive everything else…"_

_He looked away, and his gray eyes were cloudy, distant. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, more worry than playful anger in her voice. Her hand twitched, wanting to grab his, but she restrained herself._

_"You'll understand later. It should be like this for a little longer… I just want it to be…" His smile looked so peaceful. "Normal."_

_"Now," he turned to her, and it was as if the lighting in the room had changed, brightening up again. "Ten favorite things to eat. Go!"_

_They talked and laughed together until one of them noticed it was nearly midnight, and reluctantly they parted to get some sleep before the Dark Hour struck. She'd stayed awake despite herself, and wondered absently if Shinjiro had done the same._

* * *

The hospital was quiet in the very early morning, the pale light of dawn slipping through the blinds, causing the staff closing out their night shifts to squint and wince as they passed by the windows, both irritated at the light and grateful for the end of their labors. Patients slumbered, and security guards shifted at their posts. The one just outside the Intensive Care Unit eyed the coffee machine far down the hall with longing, having spent the last of his loose change hours before.

"You look like you could use this," a voice came suddenly, and the guard blinked to see a young man with silver hair approaching, holding out a paper cup of coffee snug in a cardboard sleeve. "They screwed up my order at the canteen downstairs, so they let me keep this, but I don't drink coffee. Do you want it?"

The guard sniffed, scenting some prime quality beans – not the cheap crap they put into the machines here – and glanced at the young man. "Wait. Don't I know you from somewhere?"

He looked sad. "Friend of mine is in there," he jerked a thumb in the direction of the ICU, "as of a handful of nights ago. I know I can't go in, but… I just like being here when I can, just in case anything changes."

The guard shifted uncomfortably, but accepted the proffered coffee. "Sorry about your friend," he said quietly, and gave the coffee a sip, then winced a bit. "Yeah, this is more than a little bit strong. Good thing you didn't try it – a tea drinker's palate wouldn't be able to handle this." He frowned, and took another sip. "This could really use some cream."

The young man shrugged. "I could try and get some. Where's the closest spot?"

The guard frowned. "That's the lounge, around the corner, but it's staff only."

"Why don't you go?" The young man shrugged at the guard's suspicious frown. "Look, I know it'll just take you a second. I'll be here with my tea."

A moment of hesitation, then a nod. "Don't you go anywhere," the guard chastened him, and vanished around the corner. A moment later, a young woman casually slipped around the other corner, and broke into a silent quick run, slipping soundlessly through the ICU doors that the young man quietly pushed open. "Third door on the right," Akihiko whispered to her as she slipped past.

Her heart was pounding – she was grateful for the half-asleep nurses at the station – and was able to slip into Shinjiro's room as silently as planned. She'd prepared herself mentally, but seeing him surrounded by machines, hearing the soft _whirr_ and _beep_ of the things that kept him alive… it was almost too much to bear. But she had seen him bleeding on the concrete, watched him nearly slip away – and bent her will to the breaking point to keep him here. He lived because of her. She could do this.

She stood by his bed, and gently brushed his hair out of his face, watched the shallow rise and fall of his chest as machines helped him breathe. "You look rested," she whispered, trying to joke, but tears betrayed her almost immediately.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I know you didn't want me to cry. And I've tried to be strong like you asked. To understand, to… to forgive Ken, even. He tried to run away, but Akihiko… he brought him back." She smiled faintly and brushed away a tear. "I think you'd have been proud of him. Even more than you already were.

"I wanted to be at least a little mad at you," she said quietly. "That the night after… we were together… I went to you, and you told me to be with the others. I did what you wanted, but… I thought for a moment you regretted… us." She sighed, tried to work down the lump in her throat. "I think now… I think you needed me to leave you alone, or you wouldn't keep your word to Ken. And I can't be mad at you keeping a word you'd made to yourself, even before Ken asked you to meet in that alley. Instead I'm grateful you let me be with you, that you showed me your true self not just that night, but many nights before. That you were always honest with me, even if I didn't understand all of it.

"Now, though…" She wiped her face, and did her best to put on a resolute smile. "I need to be selfish, and ask something of you. _You are going to get better_. You are going to heal, and get out of this bed, and… and you are going to _live your life_. You're going to take that advice you gave to Ken that night, and remember you have your whole life ahead of _you_, too. And I hope… I hope that I'm a part of it. But most of all…"

She smiled, and took his hand in hers. "I need you to be _you_. To be what you showed me you are. The way your eyes shine when you smile, how you care about others, how you want to do your best and bring people joy. How the happiness of others makes you light up – as much as you tried to hide it. You tried to cover yourself in darkness, but you're this… this bright light. And even if I could just have seen it for a short time…"

She laughed softly. "It's dumb, but… when you look at the sun a moment, and when you close your eyes, you can still see it, painted on the inside of your eyelids? That's how I think about you. I see your light around me. I see it in Akihiko's strength, I see it in what you've taught Fuuka, I see it in Ken's resolve, I see it in the determination all of us have to see this through. And I see it in myself, when I'm brave enough to look." She gently squeezed his hand, ran her fingers over his. "Thank you for that.

"Now…" She glanced behind her, at the door, then back. "It seems like they're switching shifts, so I've got to run. But I'm going to leave something to make sure you don't forget about me.

"Goodbye, Shinji." She kissed him on the forehead. "I love you. Sleep well."

A few minutes later, when the morning shift nurse came in to check on the gunshot victim from the night of October 4th, they started in surprise to see something new – a red neckerchief tied neatly around the patient's left arm, with a small label attached:

_ON ORDER OF THE KIRIJO GROUP – DO NOT REMOVE!_

Outside the doors of the ICU, the silver-haired young man looked at his cellphone and frowned. "I just got a text from my mom, but my phone is nearly out of charge. Is there a place I can give her a call?" The guard opened his mouth, but the young man looked at him pleadingly. "Actually, can you show me? I get really turned around in this place."

Sighing with annoyance, the guard hoisted himself off of his chair and walked halfway down the hall, pointing at the nurse's station in the distance – and entirely missed the young woman who slipped out of the doors of the ICU behind him and into the ladies' bathroom nearby. The young man thanked him, and the guard returned to his post, barely noting that the young woman who exited the bathroom didn't look like anyone he'd seen enter recently. Instead he opted for his newspaper, his strong coffee with cream, and looking forward to the final hours of his shift.

Akihiko waited for her just outside of the guard's view, and greeted her as she came around the corner. "You got there okay?"

"I did. You had a good plan."

"I've got a pretty smart team leader. I learned good planning from her."

She smiled, then her lip quivered, and she looked down. Reflexively he touched her shoulder. "You all right?"

"I think…" She nodded. "I think I will be. Thank you."

"Come on," he held out a hand. "Let's get back to the dorm. I think we can still grab something to eat before we head off to class."

The two of them walked out of the hospital, still holding hands, and into the dawning day.


End file.
